**Author:** machine **You Can Find Me At:** machine #0237 --- The shattered but still flickering LED display shot out a miasma of oranges and whites, causing the animated dancer on it to glitch and spasm with their movements. Rosier glanced to their left, one hand slowly raising as the barrels of the weapons in the No-Pats hands pointed toward them.  "Just set the drives on the ground and we'll let you run along, yeah?" One asked, holding a hand out, palm facing toward Rosier.  Rosier took a small breath in through the nose, reaching toward their hip where three drives hung, their golden shells shimmering with reflected light from the display.  All that work...just to give it up, to end up cornered again? Rosier closed their eyes and expelled the breath, their brown eyes seeming to ignite with the orange ambience, like tiny flickers of sunlight.  <><><> "I just don't buy it is all. You see, I figure he knows his way around what he works on, but cracking *two* of these little drives on the way back to the Exodus? Yeah, right." A voice spoke from beside Rosier, a conversation not intended for Rosier themselves, but rather the man across from them both. Webster, but everyone just called him Mackay. The man took off his ballcap, giving it a small brushing off after his remarks of disbelief as the Condor moved side to side in the air over Qatar. He was similar to Rosier in many ways...brave, headstrong, morally driven, and more than willing to do things his way if he felt it more justified. That's why his conversation with the other man caused Rosier to smirk just a bit.  The sand colored poncho hanging from his shoulders shifted as Casper raised his head up, evidently having been not paying much attention to what Mackay was talking about,  "Right," he quietly agreed, unaware of what he was agreeing to.  The Condor shifted violently, which caused a rough grumble from the final member of the squad...everyone just called him Irish. Mackay grinned as he looked over toward the older man,  "...you used to first class, Captain?" Irish gave a small glare toward the man, but one that wasn't too serious in nature,  "Somethin' like that."  The Condor began to slow and Irish stood up, grabbing one of the hanging handles on the ceiling to steady himself,  "Right! You all know the drill. Stick to me and we'll get out of this fine. Casper, keep the scanner close to you and update us from whatever perch you pick. We're looking for the Alpha Capsule."  Casper gave a small nod, tightening the fastening that held the scanner to his chest underneath the poncho. Rosier looked toward Irish as he continued speaking,  "Mackay, Rosier, you two are going to be the ones retrieving the drives. Preliminary estimates say the data drives should be dropping somewhere near the city, rough ballpark, but we'll make it work. Everything clear?"  "Crystal, Captain." Mackay replied, raising his hand to gesture an ok.  Rosier was looking down at the weapon within their hands. The hazard zone always felt eerily like home to them. When it came down to it, being out here wasn't war. It wasn't the big, orchestrated affairs of the remaining leaders of the world over some stronghold housing a weapon that was passed off as a satellite. It was nothing more than survival. It made Rosier shudder when they thought about just how much it felt like...life.  Rosier jumped as a gloved hand rested on their shoulder,  "...focus up, kid. We got a job to do."  A soft, reassuring nod was all that the Captain gave after his words as the Condor settled down toward the ground, the ramp slowly opening. Irish turned around toward the door as the rest of the squadron began to stand. Irish shouted over his shoulder,  "We've got a limited timeframe to do this! Clock's tickin!"  Mackay bumped Casper on the shoulder with his elbow,  "More like Hourglass, eh?"  Casper looked at Mackay, the red lenses of his NVG's practically widening with surprise at being acknowledged,  "...hm?" Mackay laughed,  "Y'know. Sand everywhere, it isn't a clock. It's an hourglass."  Rosier looked at the two and shook their head, moving to jog down the ramp and into the blistering heat of the desert. It was time to get to work. <> The sun beamed down heavily on the No-Pats as the four of them watched the Condor take back off. The distant city flickered with LED lights showcasing various products on the sides of still standing skyscrapers. Dancing silhouettes projected onto the windows of these massive buildings...vestiges of a time before everything went to shit. They were like monoliths, these buildings. Monuments.  Mackay let out a small whistle, nodding toward the horizon,  "...storms'a comin'. You weren't joking about the limited time frame."  Irish looked over his shoulder,  "I'm not one to make jokes, Webster."  Mackay raised a hand, grinning a bit from having pestered the Captain. Casper raised his goggles up on his head and looked down at the scanner, speaking,  "Looks like there are already some drives down on the ground."  Irish shook his head,  "Not our orders, Casper. The drives we're looking for have the locations of several No-Pats that the Exodus has been corresponding with. That's the goal, we let those get snagged by anyone but us...and those men and women are dead meat."  "...yeesh. No pressure," Mackay spoke again.  Rosier glanced over at Mackay and then turned their attention to Casper,  "...why did you wear those in the Condor?"  Casper looked at Rosier and then his eyes tilted up toward the goggles on his head,  "Easier to focus when no one can see my face."  Rosier nodded a bit...they didn't really understand it, but every member of the squad had their own ways of doing things. She remembered coming across Santiago praying several weeks ago. She didn't think anyone could be religious anymore, not after everything that had happened.  A few minutes of cresting a dune and then Irish pointed his fingers toward a stadium that had been nearly sunken within the sand,  "Casper, clear that out. You'll set up there. Good vantage point over everything on the horizon." Casper knelt down to the ground, reaching down to his hip as he tossed something into the air. A quick fold out of four limbs and then a drone hovered in the air. Casper unclipped a small tablet from beneath his poncho and began to fly the drone, swooping it down into the stadium.  Mackay looked over the assault rifle in his hands, turning to face Rosier,  "You plan on getting close or somethin'?" Rosier squinted,  "Quoi?"  Mackay nodded toward Rosier's weapon,  "Your gun. I swear on my life that Santiago held one of those MP9's and it looked like a toy gun in his hands."  Rosier smiled faintly...she could imagine that,  "Its light," she explained, "can't weigh myself down too much."  Mackay let out a noise as if the thought had just dawned upon him,  "Ahh...I see. I guess that's why Casper here carries this fuckin' monster," he noted, looking toward the gigantic sniper rifle that was set next to the aforementioned man, "don't need to be light when you're just sitting around all day."  Casper looked over his shoulder at Mackay, and the ballcapped Canadian seemed to wither a bit at the glare,  "I'm just jokin' man," Mackay added with a small laugh.  Irish cleared his throat,  "Casper, what do you got?"  "Empty," the man replied, putting the tablet back, "kicked sand and a few casings spent on the ground in some areas. It was occupied some time ago."  Irish then nodded, jerking his head toward the stadium,  "Set up and hit us over comms when you're ready. Keep that drone on us at all times."  Casper gave a nod and then lugged his sniper rifle up, breaking off into a jog down into the sunken stadium. Irish rolled his shoulders,  "Right. Let's go. We'll get our eyes up at the bottom of the stadium to make sure the squad that was here before has left. When Casper gives us the clear with the drone overwatch, we'll move up and wait for the Alpha Capsule to drop down."  Irish started down the dune and Rosier and Mackay followed closely behind, guns readied. The stadium, even sunken, towered over the three No-Pats standing in front of it. Mackay turned on his heels as he looked up at the structure, listening to Irish speak,  "I remember back home I always wanted to go watch a game...never got around to it."  Rosier looked at Irish, catching his glance as he spoke again,  "Ever heard of Barclays?"  "The bank?" Rosier replied.  "Aghhh," Irish groaned, waving his hand, "whatever."   The comms crackled to life as Casper spoke,  "...I am set. Drone is above and watching. Some drives are already on the ground...no sign of Alpha Capsule. I've got eyes on six soldiers, Russian, by the looks of their uniforms. Northeast to East of me in the buildings up the road."  Mackay clicked his mag release and checked his bullets,  "I'm ready to go."  Irish shook his head,  "We're not engaging. Those drives aren't what we're here for."  Mackay shrugged and clicked his mag back into place, taking a seat on the ridge of some pale white stone fencing that sat in front of the stadium,  "Sir, yes sir. I just don't really like the idea of sweating for nothing."  Irish didn't grace the man with a response and Rosier pressed up against a support that held the overhang of the stadium up. Rosier had a complicated relationship with these operations. The Hazard Zone was worryingly fulfilling. Protecting the lives of other No-pats and civilians whilst also stopping the No-Pats that would rather sell them out for a quick buck. It was like fighting back against the past...cathartic. These data drives, they were people, lives, the well-being of others, and people would readily sell that just to live a few weeks longer. It reminded Rosier of the day-  The sounds of bullets rang out from the Northeast as Casper came over the comms once again,  "Firefight between some No-Pats and the Russian Squad. Doesn't look good for the Russians."  The gunfire echoed across the sandscape, bouncing off the dormant remnants of civilization. As the bullets ripped through plate carriers and helmets in the distance, Mackay spoke,  "...so who are these No-Pats anyway? I don't recall corresponding with any."  Irish nodded,  "There's a reason for that. We keep their identities hushed until they can upload their coordinates to the combat network. The drives that come down have these coordinates and we go and recruit them to the Exodus."  Mackay frowned,  "That all seems a bit roundabout. If you are communicating with these people already then why go through the trouble of this?"  Rosier spoke up, leaning off the support,  "You think those means of communication are secure? You'd have to be an idiot to give out your location over something like the radio...whoever has control in that area would be on your head in days."  Irish tilted his head toward Rosier,  "Kid's right. We use codenames to communicate and then their real data is sent to the combat network, launched down, recovered and decrypted, and then we get them."  Mackay waved his hand in front of him as if to cut them off,  "And they just *trust* that we'll recover it?"  Irish gave a slow nod of his head...but Mackay persisted,  "Okay...but why wouldn't the Russians just come down on someone's head for using the radio in the first place?"  The Captain gave a simple reply,  "Four No-Pats just took out a Russian Squadron in the desert. Imagine what one would do on their home turf."  Mackay rolled his eyes,  "You can't shoot a drone strike in the head."  The comms crackled,  "I could," Casper softly contributed to the conversation.  The three went quiet and then Rosier broke the silence with a small laugh, which was joined by Mackay and Irish both laughing as well. <> Three minutes passed as the firefight died down and then Irish spoke to Casper over the comms,  "Any signs of the Alpha Capsule yet?"  Casper gave a succinct reply,  "No."  Irish grumbled and Mackay offered a question,  "You worried?"  Irish looked at him with a small nod,  "First extract is out in four minutes. Final extract in ten. I'd rather not be stuck here through the storm."  Mackay shrugged,  "Not too bad with all the shelter around. You got rations and water. Just gotta hope nothin' comes down on your head when you sleep."  Irish huffed a breath through his nose and the comms crackled to life again,  "First extract is coming through on the horizon. I can also see some Russian air support coming in, Super-Hinds."  Irish cursed,  "Shit."  Rosier offered some reassurance after,  "Its probably just to try and take down the squad with the drives. It'll head out after the first extract."  Irish stood up and so too followed the other two squad members,  "Let's start trekking up. If the Alpha Capsule is coming down toward the city, we should be closer to it."  Rosier and Mackay followed behind Irish, jogging along several worn-down cars, a dirtbike, and two electric trucks that seemed to have been riddled with bullets. Irish let out heavy breaths as he pushed up a dune to the North of the stadium, slowly cresting the top. Rosier and Mackay followed suit, and the three slowly stood at the crest of the dune looking into the city.  Orange lights sailed down from the sky toward the city as a Superhind raced across the skyline, miniguns firing bursts down toward a squad that was sprinting across the ground some distance away. Their destination was a Condor that was narrowly avoiding the strafing runs. Rosier felt their heart beat just a bit faster as the other squad was forced into cover in a building and the first extraction condor abandoned them.  Mackay let out a breath,  "Looks like we got some competition."  "Great," Rosier replied. Before the two could continue, Irish cut them off, pointing toward the orange lights in the sky,  "Casper," Irish acknowledged.  The comms sparked and Casper replied, not even needing to know the question,  "That's it."  The orange re-entry flames of the capsule began to diminish as it sailed closer and closer, and then it slammed directly into a skyscraper, crashing through the top floors, resting in one of the upper levels. Shattered glass, metal bars and other wreckage rained down toward the ground.  Irish started down the dune wordlessly, and Mackay followed. Rosier took a few more seconds to watch the falling debris before they too followed up behind. Mackay spoke as the squad neared a large monument juxtaposed between two once main roads, two arches intertwined over one another,  "How high do you thi-,"  He was cut off as Casper spoke over the comms,  "Russian squad up ahead moving in your direction."  Irish pointed toward a semi, rushing down toward it. Mackay sprinted forward, easily beating Irish in the footrace there. Rosier joined the two on the back-end, and Irish spoke over the comms in a hushed whisper,  "Let us know when they pass."  He went quiet as footsteps and conversation passed by them on the road. None of the squad understood it, but it sounded just as casual and human as their own conversations. Interjected with laughs or small prods at the other with a spare elbow. Precious minutes passed. "You're clear. The drives on the other squad are moving now...heading toward the Alpha Capsule."  Irish grunted as he left the cover, breaking into a speedy jog toward the massive skyscraper which held the Alpha Capsule,  "Let's pick it up!"  Mackay, for once, wordlessly followed along, and Rosier ran beside Irish. The distant dust cloud in the distance on the edge of the city was moving closer...the final extract would be here soon, and the storm would swallow up whoever was left.  The storm would always swallow everything left behind. Always. <> It took several minutes for the trio to get to the floor of the skyscraper with Casper clearing their approach. Irish stopped outside the massive building, looking at the road with Mackay and Rosier tucked behind a car for concealment.  Irish spoke over the comms,  "Can you get the drone in and clear the bottom floor, Casper?"  A sigh, "I'm pushing the connection already. I'll lose her if I go much farther east."  Irish nodded to himself and spoke, pulling out a tablet as he did, "Right. Keep the drone high and watch for the Hind, clear the roof as well. Give us a five minute for final extract."  The tablet flashed and Irish placed a small marker on the ground, node flashing on the top with infra-red light. A marker for a vehicle drop.  Irish then looked to Rosier and Mackay,  "Let's clear this bottom floor. Once we get the greenlight for the top floor, we take the elevator and descend down the three floors to get the capsule."  Mackay watched the vehicle with a mounted minigun drop into the ground lightly, turning his attention back to Irish,  "On your lead."  Rosier gave a thumbs up and the trio moved to the front door,  "Let's get this done," Mackay muttered quietly, reaching into a pouch on his side. He pulled out an orb and clicked it, causing it to flicker with a red pulse. A quick toss inside and then Irish and Rosier looked to their wrists.  Red pings on the inside, three of them. Irish pulled back the slide of his marksman rifle and spoke,  "Entry quiet. I'll take the two up front, Mackay, find cover and make yourself useful. Sundance, secure the elevators on the right."  A pair of nods from the two No-Pats and Irish took a breath. Time to work. Irish pushed the door open, stepping forward with his DM7 raised. He looked forward, seeing two Russians wielding AK24's standing in the middle of the lobby. One was loading a magazine whilst the other fiddled with a ration. A squeeze of the trigger and the ration flew to the ground, blood spattering the wall and pouring onto the ground from the soldier's fatal headwound. The second soldier dropped his magazine and went to grab his sidearm, only to be struck square in the chest with a round, knocking him to the ground. Irish reached for his back, pulling out a black object which he threw on the ground. A stomp on a plate and up sprung a reinforced metal point of coverage that Irish dropped behind as screams in Russian rang out. Mackay entered behind and quickly glanced up, looking to the higher level of the second. His sensor hadn't gotten the second floor. There were at least four or five up there alone. Two bullets pierced two targets and Mackay ducked behind the reinforced cover, setting his gun to the side as he pulled out his grappling hook. Bullets dinged off the cover and Mackay shouted,  "Sundance! Throw one of those clusters up there!"  Rosier had entered right after Mackay, turning to the right where Irish had called out the elevators being earlier. A single Russian troop stood there, leaned against the wall. He had readied his rifle as Mackay had ducked, but his body lurched as four rounds from Rosier's MP9 shredded through his abdomen. The soldier slid down against the wall, his blood painting it red. He let out ragged breaths as his rifle dropped to the ground and he fought for survival. Rosier turned their attention to Mackay, lowering the MP9 to grab one of the cluster grenades off of their belt. A grunt, a throw, and an explosion as grenades were sent flying out on the higher level. A Russian was tossed through the glass and metal railing, crashing to the floor. Mackay suddenly stood, racing forward without his rifle. He saw his opportunity. The grappling hook fired, piercing into the floor of the higher level where the railing had broken. Sailing into the air, Mackay let go as he neared the precipice of the higher level, being tossed up onto it. He landed on his back, pulling out his sidearm, and, with a quick lean to his right, fired four shots at two disoriented Russians, dropping one instantly, sending the other to one knee.  Irish set down four metal legs, attaching the mechanical head of his APS system to it.  Mackay slid toward the kneeling soldier, ripping his rifle away from him as he used his body as cover. A spray of automatic fire and another Russian was dispatched by Mackay, bullets riddling the soldier he was using as cover. The mag ran dry and the surviving Russian troop started toward Mackay on the opposite side of the walkway, going around where Irish could not see.  Sundance moved forward from the elevator, curling around the right side of the room, MP9 raised. A clicking noise came from the Russian up top. Only just seeing his leg, Sundance fired, dropping the Russian soldier into the railing. The pin and ring of a grenade fell down onto the ground floor. Another shot and it impacted the Russian's helmet, knocking him limp against the railing. He slipped down and sailed downward as a grenade slipped from his fingertips, falling toward the ground with him. A loud crack came from near Irish as a small projectile burst the grenade into harmlessness, and the Russian slammed into the ground, dead. The room was silent again. Mackay let out a loud groan from above as he stood, heading down the steps. Irish immediately shouted,  "That was a stupid fuckin' move, Mackay!"  Mackay held up a hand, his head hanging low as he went down the steps, one hand clutching his abdomen,  "Yep. I feel the stupidity right in my side," he admitted, blood dripping out of his hand.  Rosier stepped forward, but Irish caught the man as he fell, looking toward Rosier with worry. Mackay had been hit. <> Irish pulled Mackay close, dressing the wound as best he could. He wasn't a medic...he was just a gunner.  Rosier kept their eyes up, speaking to Irish,  "Captain. What's your orders?"  Irish grunted, lifting Mackay up,  "We fall back. Take the second extract and get him patched up. We don't have the bodies to fight this."  Rosier tightened their fist a bit. That wasn't going to fly...it was orders, yeah, but this wasn't a war. This was survival. The No-Pats *trusted* them to get these drives. If they failed, more people would die, or worse.  Rosier shook their head,  "I can fight. You take Mackay back with the car...I'll get back. Drives are high-up, Casper can guide me. Worse comes to worse, I'll leave before I get the drives."  Irish adjust Mackay on his shoulder,  "No. Hell no. That's suicide. This is a squad of No-Pats. You'd be chewed up and spi-"  "I can handle myself, Captain," Sundance barked back, taking a strong stance.  Irish narrowed his eyes at the No-Pat,  "...kid," the Captain warned, his voice garnering an edge that he didn't normally use.  Rosier nearly balked at his warning, but took another breath,  "I'm getting those drives."  Irish shook his head,  "I am giving you an order!" He bellowed.  Rosier then turned on their heel, walking into the elevator,  "Casper, is the roof clear?"  Irish watched the door close on Sundance. He remained unmoving until the steel doors hid the No-Pat from view.  Casper spoke over the comms, but a loud bang sounded on the other side,  "Yes," he replied.  Rosier shook their head as the elevator chimed with happy music...and then the doors opened.  <> The doors opened and blood seeped into the elevator immediately. Sundance winced, stepping over the corpse that laid on the floor. There was a hole in their chest wide enough to stop a running car. Four dead Russian troops laid on the roof, some still dead, even after hiding behind thick metal cover. Sundance sighed, walking over to the edge of the skyscraper. Irish and Mackay were driving along the desert road toward the stadium, and the barely visible sniper glint in the distance hundreds of meters away seemed to flicker to Rosier like a friendly wave.  Rosier held their hand up and turned, walking over to a stairwell that descended to the next lowest floor. As the No-Pat descended, they checked over their gear. Only two more cluster grenades left, and three magazine for the MP9. Once down the first set of the steps, Rosier stopped. The stairs had been broken completely from the crash...they could only go down one floor on this unless they wanted to fall down all the numerous floors to an unceremonious death. Rosier shook their head and opened a door to step in. It looked...destroyed. Broken pipes were shooting water onto the ground, lights were flickering and loose papers and wreckage were slowly burning from the heat of the crashed capsule. Rosier spoke over the comms,  "Anything, Casper?"  A pause,  "Other squad just reached the elevators. Probably heading up to your floor or the roof now."  "Right," Rosier replied, moving forward through what seemed to have once been an office. There was surely some other steps down here somewhere. Numerous cubbies held burning papers and trashed computers, but a broken picture frame laid on the ground near one. Rosier stopped and walked over, kneeling down to pick it up. A quick turn revealed a photo of a young man with his mother. Rosier frowned...they were probably dead.  The ground beneath shook and Rosier raised their head, frozen. Another shudder...and then the ground gave way and Rosier fell. A few loud crashes and a brief period of darkness, then, Rosier was back at it. There was quite a bit of pain in their left leg, but there wasn't any lasting injuries from what could be discerned. The MP9 was gone. "Sundance?" Casper asked over the comms.  Rosier groaned and replied,  "I'm alright. Floor collapsed. I'm...," a small paused to look around the room...there was the capsule, "I'm with the capsule."  "You need to hurry. Final extract is in fift-," he suddenly cut out.  "Casper?" Rosier questioned, standing up shakily. The No-Pat walked to the capsule that was sat firmly amidst the wreckage, kneeling down to one of the slots. It slowly opened, revealing the golden drive that held the location of so many innocents. Rosier pulled the drive from the slot, and then walked around to get the other two. Grabbing the final drive, a noise from the other side of the room caused Rosier to look up.  "I see one!" A voice shouted, and Rosier immediately ducked their head as a bullet sailed over. It was certainly time to go.  Rosier turned and looked for the closest piece of cover, scrambling in a low run to duck behind it as bullets pinged off the capsule. A few breaths and then it was time to move to the next one. Rosier grabbed a cluster grenade off their belt, tossing it toward the voice and bullets. Upon the first explosion, Rosier turned and ran, bursting through a doorway.  A private office, it seemed like. Bullets screamed through the drywall as Rosier scrambled across the room, stumbling out of the next door. Bright orange lights flashed from the various technical displays that were still running. Rosier then ran through one more door before coming to a screaming halt as a bullet tore through the flashing orange display next to them. Turning slowly, Rosier pulled out a cluster grenade,  "Step the fuck back! These drives will get turned to dust if you take another step!"  Four No-Pats entered the room and everything was silent besides a dull roar outside. The lead No-Pat raised his hand, speaking quietly,  "Just set the drives on the ground and we'll let you run along, yeah?"  Sundance swallowed, shakily holding the grenade. The other three No-Pats began to move around to try and surround Sundance. Rosier bit the inside of their cheek and spoke, the orange light of the broken display dancing within their pupil like the sun,  "Fuck off."  The grenade was thrown to the ground, a small explosion bursting the windows behind Rosier, knocking them backward out of it. The other No-Pats screamed as the cluster went off in the building, and then that room burst into flames. Rosier's vision went black.  <> Sundance awoke merely a second later, gasping for air in freefall. The building was sailing past and the storm was at the heels of the No-Pat. Still, the pain and the dizzy nature of being knocked unconscious was disorienting. Another second, the ground was closer now. Rosier screamed loudly as their arms and legs stretched out, wind hitting them, lifting them slightly. The wingsuit deployed, sending Sundance racing through the air away from the storm.  "Casper!" A desperate cry left the lips of the flying No-Pat.  A crackle in the comms as the storm interfered with connection,  "Fifteen."  Sundance growled as their speed picked up, tears forming at the edges of their eyes. A drone sped past Sundance, heading toward the stadium. A loud whirring came from above as the Superhind from earlier sped away from the storm past Rosier, the minigun spinning up to shred Rosier into bits and save the drives.  Sundance let out a loud yell of sheer courage as the minigun pointed toward them...only for a bright blue shock to sail over the body of the Superhind. The minigun stopped spinning and the tail rotor seemed to sputter as the helicopter stopped speeding up, getting grabbed by the sandstorm it was racing away from. The helicopter was spun like a ragdoll before being tossed out toward the ground, its main rotor facing down. Sundance let out a few panicked breaths as the stadium neared, pointing down toward the sloped edge of the roof. Rosier rolled forward, sliding across the sloped roof at first before tumbling head over shoulder with loud grunts, slamming across it. Eventually, there was nothing to slam into, and Sundance slid off the edge of the roof, flying down toward the ground.  <> Casper caught his drone in the air near the Condor extraction, tucking it away. A quick glance up and he saw Sundance sail down from the roof toward the ground, slamming into a pile of excess trash once left in the stadium. He pulled up his sniper, giving a glance toward the unconscious Mackay to make sure he was safe. After that, he ran forward and took a kneel outside the Condor ramp, aiming toward the assaulting Russian troops. There had been an onslaught of them since Irish had arrived back, and he was running short on ammo. Irish didn't even give an order, instead running out toward Sundance's limp body in the trash. Casper cleared his mind, closing his eyes for merely a half-second before he started to fire.  Irish slid to a stop near Sundance,  "...c'mon kid, get up," he muttered, lifting the No-Pat and the drives up onto his shoulder. He immediately started to race back, bullets flying around him. Loud explosions rang from the Condor as Casper fired shot after shot, dropping numerous Russian troops into the sand. Irish grit his teeth, grunting as he picked up the pace, expending every bit of energy his could muster to get back to the condor ramp.  And then...he was inside. The ramp closed as Casper slid inside, and they took off in a hurry, bullets still pinging off the outer shell.  Casper looked to Irish and Irish set Sundance down, looking at the drives. He let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to his face.  "Are they alright?" Casper asked.  Irish nodded, pinching his nose,  "They'll live. Goddamn...," he mumbled.  Casper looked at him inquisitively. It had been stressful, but he rarely saw the Captain get shaken by anything.  Irish leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Casper then offered a suggestion,  "Are you getting too old for it all?" Irish shook his head,  "No," he looked over at Sundance and pulled the beanie off their head, setting it aside with a sigh.  He looked at Casper,  "Just sick of kids in sock caps playing hero."  <><><><><><>